


Triple Drabble: Mirror Image.

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-29
Updated: 2005-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 20:19:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was the nightmare that kept them awake at night. Is <span class="u">that</span> what you want to hear?<br/>-Methos, Comes A Horseman</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p>Adam Pierson/Death. Kinda. Pre-CAH/R6:8</p>
    </blockquote>





	Triple Drabble: Mirror Image.

**Author's Note:**

> I was the nightmare that kept them awake at night. Is that what you want to hear?  
> -Methos, Comes A Horseman
> 
>  
> 
> \---
> 
> Adam Pierson/Death. Kinda. Pre-CAH/R6:8

You can't see me.

You know I'm here, of course you do. You're a bright boy. Top of your class going all the way back to the University of Heidelberg, and while you may never have seen a demon, you've certainly seen enough to make you believe in magic. No, Methos, you aren't blind, but even in my, our, day, we knew that there were none so blind as those who would not see.

You think me gone. Ha. You think the urges disappeared, vanished, beaten down in submission and swallowed back into the mind from which they were given birth. Ah, Methos, my ignorant friend. I've always been here, cradling you in my arms at night, crooning to you until you fell asleep. I've shielded you from harm, protected you with the tenderest of embraces from the sharpest of swords. I've watched your back when you walked alone at night, I've manipulated men so that you left no trace but one our brothers could follow, and when you played, I've guided your sword to glory and honor.

You are nothing without me, my bright boy, my other half. And you will never be rid of me. Never.

When you greet your friends, I am the steel behind your smile. When your lover holds you in his soft arms and bed, I am the one who plots, and I know all the exits. And when our brothers return, I will be the one who rises. I will be the one who takes their blood-slicked palms, I will be the one who licks the sweat off their faces. I will be the one who triumphs.

Every wolf must eventually shed the sheep's clothing, dear Methos, and you are, if I may say so, one hell of a wolf. Soon.

Very soon.


End file.
